


Redemption

by milgrom



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:50:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milgrom/pseuds/milgrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First-person; Morinth travels to Lessus to be assured of her sisters' safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redemption

_Today is the day, the day that I have feared so long_

_The day to leave, and to pay for what is done wrong_

_I have come to the sea, to drown, to finally be free,_

_Slowly I descent into darkness, fall into the deep_

\- - - - -

My hands shake since I stopped using, though I can still feel the remnants clotting my veins. They are superimposed visages along my arms and neck. My vision clouds and my thoughts run so parallel with reality that I am unable to still tell the difference. Am I dreaming? Is that truly where my sisters dwell - high on a mountain cliff, on a planet that bears no life and landscape wild, poisonous and unrelenting?

The irony is not lost on me. That they would shelter such creatures here, on a stretch of land that will bear no fruit. It cannot be coincidental.

The gates were undefended, no bodies milled around the grounds, not even an errant smell of death and destruction lingers in the air.

But I know. I can feel it. I can feel them.

Shepard's war has touched here too, a place that claimed it was safe. A stronghold to withstand even the strongest tides.

The first body lay upon the grand stairs, twisting upwards hundreds of feet to the many isolated rooms and bulletproof windows. It would be picturesque, the rolling hills made of impossible shades of green that would kill you if you touched them with bare skin. Water like acid flows freely, notching out parts of the hill and into the processing plant which does its job at cleansing and purifying.

This place is a farce.

"Mira?"

A voice I have longed to hear. Falere, beautiful and wonderful and sweet Falere with a torn dress and hollow eyes and blood staining her soft and delicate hands.

"Mira, what are you doing here?"

The words catch in my throat. I cannot help but stare at her, a lovely vision whom I loved so profoundly all those years I spent alone. Even the screams echoing along the walls bear no significance to this moment, this reunion I have always wished for but never thought would happen.

I feel the cold of the monastery seeping into my bones, the gilded chains wrapping tight around my throat and pinning my hands and legs in place. They are not real, they are not my weights to bear. I see that in her eyes, the blues we share, not hard or ice like Mother's were, but sweet and curious, just as I remember.

"Falere -" her name feels so wrong, as though we do not speak in the same tongue. Perhaps we do not. "Falere, you are alive." I want to hold her hands in mine. I want us to sing and dance as we did when we were children. But we are not children anymore. We have not been for so long.

"Mira," her eyes are wet. Her breath comes in shaking gasps. "Rila is -"

The explosion knocks Falere from her feet but I stand strong, only shaking still from the withdrawal. I give her my hand and feel her callused palms, the ones music used to flow through easily.

"Where is Rila?" My second sister, the one who played party to my partial crimes of youth - the dancer and songstress, the killer smile I longed to mimic.

"The commandos placed a bomb." Her hands slip from mine like I am contaminated though her face keeps such a neutral pallor. "Rila went to stop it. Mira - sister, they killed the rest."

Monsters to our dying breath, no requiem sung for our passing, just a cacophony of bullets and anguished cries that will play carrion to the soft sounds of wind. The reverberations linger here and rush and roil of my determination must win out.

So we run. We go together, flying feet and harried vision to find our lost sister.


End file.
